My Mojo packed its bags in November and hasn’t been seen since. No-one knows where it went, why it went or what it got up to when it was away. I was quite worried about it at first and considered filing a missing Mojo report. But then I got angry instead. I yelled, I sulked, I told it I didn’t care if it never came back, because I had no plans to use it anyway. Then something strange happened – like in all the best stories – just when I came close to giving up, it showed up, acting as if nothing had even happened.
Today I wrote the first draft, nearly three thousand words, of a short story that will be my next assignment for my creative writing course. And breath.